


Checkers

by under_a_linden_tree



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Board Games, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Winter, pure utter self indulgent fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27905932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/under_a_linden_tree/pseuds/under_a_linden_tree
Summary: On a quiet winter night, Aziraphale and Crowley play checkers.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 27
Collections: SOSH - Guess the Author #9 "Game"





	Checkers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmAndFandems](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmAndFandems/gifts).



> Written for the Soft Omens Discord's Guess the Author game. The prompt was "games". Some fluff for you, Em!

Night has settled over the South Downs long ago, and snow is falling gently atop the roofs of quaint cottages. The lights have gone out and the music has been turned off, except for one house, nestled away towards the edge of their village, in which the bright tunes of a Mozart record dance on the hearth-warm air.

The light is low, tinted red by the gleam of the fireplace and golden by the many candles lit around the living room. A couple is sitting on the carpet playing a game, on opposite sides of a coffee table, but they’re holding hands atop of it. They’re laughing softy at a joke that will be forgotten in a few minutes’ time.

One of them has a sweet smile, and fluffy white curls. His eyes have laughter lines at the corners, and they are filled with love. He plays with his left hand, even though it’s not the one he’s used to doing things with, but he doesn’t want to let go either. So he picks up a white playing piece from the board and sets it down on the next field a little clumsily.

His husband, red-haired, lanky and wrapped up in a blanket, smiles.

“That wasn’t a good decision, angel,” he says, brushing over the angel’s knuckles very gently before he picks up a black piece.

He puts it down right behind the white one, touching the board only for a moment, before he lifts it and sets it behind another one, and then another, in a zigzag line. His smile grows even wider, blooms into a smirk, but the angel seems unbothered by this. He is enjoying himself too much to feel discontent, even though there’s only one of his playing pieces left and it will be gone soon, too.

Aziraphale – for that is the angel’s name – considers his final moves and takes a sip of his cocoa, which has grown a little cold by now. Something inside him yearns, but not because of the game. It doesn’t matter to him to do well, not anymore, so he puts his piece down where his husband can catch it in one move. The sign is understood, the game is finished.

“Well done, Crowley,” he whispers softly.

Aziraphale doesn’t need to say more. He turns his hand ever so gently and rises to walk around the coffee table without having to let go. With a gentle smile, he kisses the top of Crowley’s head and sits down on the floor next to him, cradling their hands in the place where their thighs meet.

“Rematch?” Crowley asks, squeezing Aziraphale’s hand.

The angel looks at him for a moment, considers the expression on his face and the tone of his voice. Even as he observes, he wants to be closer still.

“I don’t think we need one,” he sighs, as he leans his heavy head against his darling’s shoulder, kissing the edge of his jaw. And he’s right.

Crowley always wins at checkers.


End file.
